


a grandma they could love

by veroniquemagique



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veroniquemagique/pseuds/veroniquemagique
Summary: Grace and Frankie volunteer to babysit Mallory's hoard of children one afternoon.





	a grandma they could love

It was no secret that Grace Hanson wasn’t very fond of kids. When her own girls were young, she had struggled to connect with them, and it was beyond her why she was standing here, nervously awaiting Mallory’s hoard of children and thinking that it would be any different decades later.

Yet there she was, volunteering to babysit for her daughter, who was a little too transparent with the surprise on the other end of the call. She knew she hadn’t been the greatest mother to Mallory or her sister, but she wanted to try to be better for her grandchildren. She wanted ‘Grandma Grace’ to be a name they said with love and excitement.

Maybe it was some of Frankie’s excitement was rubbing off on her, just like the orange dust from the bag of Doritos she found her sneaking her hand into in the studio the night before. No grand announcement had been made yet, but Frankie told her that she had a funny feeling that Alison and Bud would be gifting the world a beautiful little baby sooner rather than later, because she’d been talking to the deity of the day and “she intuits that kind of shit, Grace”.

It was Frankie’s suggestion after all, this babysitting thing. Well, she told Grace that if she wanted to try to be more unconditional, maybe she should start with her grandkids, and when it came up that Mal wanted to go out with some of the ladies from her new job, Frankie’s words gave her the little nudge - or rather shove - to call up her daughter and offer to have the kids over.

It was also Frankie promising - with a forehead kiss, of course - to be there and help her survive the ordeal that gave her the nerve to even consider it. Being with Frankie made Grace feel like she could do anything, even engage with screaming children for an entire afternoon against her better judgement. It couldn’t be much worse than a yodeling roommate though, could it?

She stood and straightened out her cardigan when she heard the car pull up and the ignition stop in the driveway. Soon enough, two screaming children came barreling down the stairs, their mother carefully following with a baby carrier in tow. Grace opened the door and Macklin and Madison ran past her before she could even say ‘hello’.

“Hey mom,” Mallory greeted, as Grace reached out for the twins. Again, her daughter had not tried to hide how surprised she was at her mother, and it stung a little bit, but Grace tried to push that down and focus on the little sleeping bundles hanging in front of her. They were cute when they were sleeping like that.

“Thanks again for doing this, I really appreciate it,” Mal added, reaching out and touching her mother’s arm gently. Her children rarely ever hugged her, and she didn’t blame them.

“My pleasure, I love spending time with them,” she replied, and when Mallory gave her a look of disbelief, she added, “Plus, Frankie’s been looking forward to getting her ‘grandma practice’ in, and you know she’s loved the kids since you first found out you were pregnant with Macklin.”

“Oh I remember,” Mallory laughed, then let herself glance at her phone. She pulled away and let her fingers graze over her babies’ soft little faces, a smile growing on her face that warmed Grace’s heart. Some days she still couldn’t believe that Mallory was all grown up with babies of her own.

“Go on, enjoy yourself, we’ve got this,” Grace laughed, almost pushing her daughter out the door. Mal said one last goodbye, and she was gone.

One of the babies stirred a little in their sleep, drawing Grace’s attention. She was starting a little late with Macklin and Madison, but maybe a loving grandma wouldn’t be so foreign to these two. She hoped she could learn to love these two - all four of them, actually - no matter how they smelled, or how many stains she would end up trying to scrub from her floors later, no matter how many of Frankie’s sculptures they broke… although she may just end up thanking them for the decrease in phalluses in their house, especially if the kids were going to be spending more time with them. And she wanted that.

-

Frankie was better with the kids, she always was. Grace never let herself think too much about it before, just took a sip of her martini and threw a “that’s nice” their way every now and then.

Now though, she was trying, and it was exhausting. How did Jean _do_ this? She was seventy three years old, it wasn’t exactly meant to be the prime of running around after a child who was one slip away from a serious injury, especially since doing this meant that she was at just as high a risk of that herself. Yet as she watched Frankie jump in between the older two, blocking Madison off from her pursuit of her brother and hoisting her up in the air, she made it look easy.

Grace came to a halt, clutching the back of the couch and huffing, her lungs - and the rest of her body too - begging for a rest, and she watched the sight before her. Frankie was spinning Madison up around her, both of them giggling as she pulled her in and blew a raspberry against her neck.

The most breathtaking part of the whole thing was the big, beautiful smile stretched wide across her face, and up into the eyes that met hers. Frankie winked at her, as she laid down her granddaughter and let her run off again.

“Having fun, Grandma Grace?” Frankie laughed, making her way over to Grace’s side. She leaned her head against Grace’s shoulder, like she did sometimes when she needed a minute to reground herself - as if Grace was more relaxing than her finest joint - and together they watched Madison continue to chase her brother around the deck furniture just outside.

“Yeah, it’s tiring as hell, but it’s nice,” she sighed, leaning into the touch herself, her head resting against Frankie’s. “How about you? Feeling ready to be Grandma Frankie yet?”

“Oh I’m already Grandma Frankie as far as these ones are concerned, but yes I-” she gasped, seeing Macklin scramble over to the water hose. “We’re in a _drought_! Don’t they teach kids anything about our beautiful Mother Earth in school these days?” Frankie flew off out the doors and launched into what Grace could assume was the strangest and most long-winded global warming lesson the kids would ever get. She knew, of course, because she had heard it many times herself before she abandoned any hope of ever using that hose again.

-

“Grandma Frankie, you’re my number two favourite grandma,” Grace heard from Macklin, his voice still audible over the whir of his new R/C monster truck. She had given it to him from her stash of toys when Frankie had finally gotten winded. She could see them down the hall from where she stood at the kitchen counter, preparing a healthy dinner that all of the kids - Frankie included - would probably hate, no matter how good it was for them.

“After Grandma Grace?” Frankie asked earnestly, leaning into the child as he didn’t even bother to look up from the remote in his small hands.

“No, Grandma Jean,” Macklin shook his head. “I don’t think Grandma Grace is very fun. You and Grandma Jean are way more fun.”

It was one thing to know she wasn’t anyone’s favourite, but to hear it so bluntly like that filled her with an intense sadness and disappointment - disappointment in herself, in her lack of presence in their lives. But she was trying, she had a drive to be better, thanks to the woman who was promptly defending her to her own grandson like she was someone to be revered.

“Just because Grandma Grace isn’t always good at playing, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you and your brother and your sisters more than anyone in this whole wide world, except maybe your mom and Aunt Brianna,” Frankie explained, patting Macklin’s head softly, ruffling his hair a little.

Grace had all but given up on the vegetables she was peeling and chopping, watching the exchange down the hall with bated breath. Macklin finally stopped pressing the levers on his remote and looked up at Frankie with the most focused face she had ever seen on a child his age.

“Do you love Grandma Grace?”

Frankie leaned back, smiling, not skipping a beat with her reply, “of course I love Grandma Grace, don’t be silly.”

Macklin nodded slowly, then added, “...like Grandpa Robert and Grandpa Sol love each other?”

Frankie’s answer was a little more hesitant this time, and it made Grace return her focus to preparing the food. Not all of it though, not so much that she couldn’t hear Frankie’s soft “yeah, yeah I do”. She didn’t need to see the warm smile that crinkled around her eyes and lit up her face in the most Frankie way possible to know it was there - she could hear it in her voice.

-

Babies weren’t as exhausting when you could give them back at the end of the day, Grace found. So, here she was, gently rocking Maisy in her arms, watching the possibility and innocence shine in her little eyes. Frankie once told her that baby’s eyes were gateways to the universe, since they were so fresh and new and not clouded by the adult world of bullshit and air pollution, and with her granddaughter in her arms, soft and warm and so delicate, she was inclined to believe her. Maybe she was growing soft in her old age.

After dinner, Frankie had decided to start an impromptu art class in the living room, running off to the studio and rushing back in with an armful of things Grace didn’t even know she owned. This must’ve been _her_ secret stash for the kids.

Frankie flitted around the table, watching as Macklin and Madison drew, giving them pointers about how to draw this dinosaur or that flower, and what colours would really make that sun in the corner of the page just _pop_. It was adorable and heartwarming to watch, like Frankie was made to do just this. Bud and Coyote must have had a fun childhood, she thought, growing up with a woman like Frankie.

“Wow, that’s a pretty freakin’ rad fire-breathing T-Rex ya got there pal! And woah,” Frankie jabbed her finger at the page, “is that you riding it? Super cool, little man.”

“And what have we got here?” Frankie made her way over to Madison, who kept switching colours furiously as she completed her picture. “Is that…? Ahh, that’s so sweet. Do I ever love that! Go show Grandma Grace your picture,” she said nodding to Grace, who looked up from Maisy just in time to see Madison holding out a sheet of paper in front of her. She took ahold of it with her free hand and held it out.

Wow. It was them. Her and Frankie, inside a house she assumed was the beach house, given the blue waves off to the side. Both she and Frankie were smiling, and they were surrounded by an array of multi-coloured hearts and flowers and- _oh_ \- Grace’s eyes fell to their hands, which were overlapping. They were holding hands. Madison had drawn her and Frankie holding hands, in their home, with “I love my grandmas” scrawled out in big, 7 year old letters above them.

 _Grandmas_. She loved her grandmas - Grandma Frankie _and_ Grandma Grace. And like her brother, she thought that they loved each other, and well, maybe at some other point she would have corrected them, but not now. Even if she was too afraid to agree, to say more than “that’s great sweetheart, I love it” and “how about we put that on the fridge?”, maybe the kids knew her better than she thought. Maybe _their_ grandkids knew them better than they knew themselves. Children are extra super perceptive, as Frankie reminded her earlier that morning.

But she wouldn’t worry about that now. She would put Maisy back down to sleep beside her brother, pin that picture - and Macklin’s self portrait riding a dinosaur, because she was not about to pick favourites - to the fridge, and let her grandkids believe that she loved Frankie and Frankie loved her, ‘like Grandpa Robert and Grandpa Sol’, because she’d be damned if it wasn’t completely, wholeheartedly, undeniably true.

And later, as the sun was setting and she came back from making herself some tea to find Frankie, Macklin and Madison passed out on the pillows in the meditation room, she might snap a quick picture on her phone of the calm after the storm. She might lean in and press a kiss to each of their foreheads - a promise that she would keep trying to be a grandma they wanted to be around, a grandma they could love. And she might even kiss Frankie’s forehead and watch the smile tug at her sleepy lips, silently promising that she would be a grandma that Frankie could love too.

Grace pulled the baby crib into the room and wrapped herself in one of Frankie’s afghans as she settled into the hanging chair with her tea. Maybe she wasn’t good with kids yet, but she knew that she wouldn’t trade this feeling she got just being with them, her _family_ \- the calm, content feeling that filled her - for the world. Maybe she’d offer to babysit more often, because unlike Brianna’s barking dependent, at least these ones didn’t destroy her belongings with quite as much slobber. And hey, she did love them. They were hers- or rather,  _theirs_ , after all.


End file.
